Out For a Walk, 1/3
by AmaranthCat
Summary: Immediately post-"Gone." Spike listens in as Buffy tells Willow about their quasi-relationship. Will be the first of three, if I get any good feedback on this, keeping in mind that it's my first ever attempt at fanfic!


Author: AmaranthCat  
  
Rating: G  
  
Copyright: The BtVS characters and Buffyverse are not mine in any way shape or form, I just like to play with them.  
  
Summary: Immediately Post-"Gone." Spike listens in as Buffy tells Willow about their quasi-relationship. Will be the first of three, if I get any good feedback on this, keeping in mind that it's my first ever attempt at fanfic!  
  
*Out For a Walk, Part One*  
  
There were still lights on upstairs in Dawn's room. He'd give it a little while, have another smoke, and then go see if Buffy'd turned visible again yet. He was still pretty bloody irritated about earlier in the evening, but he had to find out whether he could do anything to help. He felt in his pocket for his crumpled pack of cigarettes, snorting a little at the vision of himself as the helper of damsels in distress. Not exactly the immortality he'd been planning on.  
  
He pulled out his lighter and paused, staring at it for a moment before closing his fingers around it, trying to feel some trace of her warmth still lingering in the metal. Nothing there. He flicked the wheel, cupped his hand around the flame, and lit the cigarette as he started toward the house. He glanced up just in time to see the two women sitting on the porch steps before they could see him, and automatically ducked behind the bushes where they couldn't see him.  
  
She was visible again, it would seem. So he should probably just take off. But his curiosity got the better of him and he moved as quietly as only vampires do until he was close enough to hear Willow semi-babbling:  
  
".....look, if I'm completely wrong, tell me and I'll believe you. I'd kind of like to be wrong. It would be a lot less weird, and we've already had a ton of weird today. But I figure, if I'm right, you could probably use someone to talk to. And that used to be my job. I know we haven't been too good with the girl-talk lately but --"  
  
Buffy's voice, nearly a whisper, clearly taking a lot of effort to control. "Did you talk to Xander about this?"  
  
The witch shook her head vehemently. "No! No, he didn't have any idea. You know he's kind of clueless about this stuff. I just called to tell him you weren't pudding, and he only told me about the, uh, exercising because he was thought it was kind of funny." Spike's eyes widened a bit; just what had the clueless boy told Red, and how much had she figured out? He took a drag of the cigarette and moved in a little closer.  
  
Buffy's head was in her hands, her newly shorn hair falling down and hiding whatever expression was on her face. An expression he would have killed to have a better look at just then. He had to settle for her voice, a little shakier now. "Will, I don't know if I can talk about this."  
  
Willow tentatively reached out a hand to touch her friend's shoulder. "Okay... But there's something to talk about?"  
  
Buffy jumped a little at the light touch, and then slowly looked up, meeting Willow's eyes for a long silent minute before responding. "Yes. There's something to talk about." Another pause. "You're right, Will. I was there when Xander came to the crypt."  
  
A deep breath from Willow. "Oookay. So, your whole invisibility holiday went kind of far. Um, you don't have to tell me the details. And I won't tell anyone else. But are you okay?"  
  
Buffy didn't even seem to have heard her, continuing slowly, but gaining speed as she went along. "I'd been there for hours. It seemed like the only place it made sense to go. I've been feeling like that a lot lately."  
  
The cigarette dangled forgotten from Spike's fingers, a cylinder of ash.  
  
"I don't expect you to understand, Will. I'm not sure I understand. I know it doesn't make any sense, but in a weird way it's the only thing in my life that *does* make sense right now. It's keeping me going. *He's* keeping me going." She stopped finally, seeming a little surprised at her own words. "Will...do you think I'm nuts? Do you hate me?" The vampire didn't move a muscle, but flinched inwardly at whatever was sure to follow.  
  
Willow seemed more than a little stunned, but quickly gathered herself together from whatever her thoughts were, to put her arms around her friend. "Of course not! Buffy, I couldn't ever hate you. I just wasn't expecting this. I don't know what to think. But I'm glad you told me. And we'll figure it out together, when I'm done being in shock. Okay?"  
  
*You and me both, Red...* the vampire thought, unaware that he was holding his breath, since breathing was only a habit these days and not anything he particularly needed to do.  
  
Buffy nodded and offered up a shaky smile, seemingly out of words after her confession. Willow stood up, glancing toward the house. "I'm thinking, after the day we've had, we both need ice cream and girl talk. Badly. Does that sound okay?"  
  
"Sounds better than okay," Buffy responded, standing up as well. "Just give me a minute?" Willow gave her a searching look, then nodded and went inside, still looking shaken.  
  
The Slayer watched the door swing shut behind Willow. She didn't turn around, keeping her eyes fixed on the door when she said quietly, "You do know that I can tell when you're near me, right?"  
  
He took a step forward and she continued sharply but not without warmth, "Don't come closer." Finally she turned around, those beautiful eyes going straight to where he stood separated from her by a few leaves and some air, waiting for a clue as to this new step of their dance. "I don't know what we're doing, and I don't know if I'm ready for people to know. I guess I'm about to find out." She paused and looked down at the ground. "Um, I'm sorry I haven't really handled this well. I'm not handling anything too well. For whatever that's worth."  
  
Buffy headed for the door, stopping with her hand on the handle. "I'll come find you tomorrow. Let you know how it goes. But, Spike?" She turned back again, the faintest trace of a smile on her lips. "You've got to stop this whole lurking around listening in thing. If you want to hear my voice that badly, there are these great new inventions called cell phones. Look into it. I might even call you sometime."  
  
The door swung closed and she was gone, leaving Spike to stare after her, sure something fairly momentous had just happened but not sure exactly what. After a long moment, he pulled the last cigarette from his pack and lit it with hands that he would never have admitted were trembling a little. He'd have to go nick a few more packs somewhere; it would be a long night, waiting to find out what was happening in the Summers house.  
  
He tossed the crumpled, empty pack in the street as he walked away, shaking his head slightly. A bloody cell phone. Damsel in distress, indeed. 


End file.
